


twiggy

by againstmygreeleaf



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blood, Blood and Injury, Broken Bones, Friendship, Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury, Mild Gore, Vomiting, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 12:02:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15118982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/againstmygreeleaf/pseuds/againstmygreeleaf
Summary: Hunk looks up and the plate falls from his hands, o’devours scattering over the grass as he starts running.





	twiggy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maychorian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maychorian/gifts).



> So um, it's maychorian's birthday. And since she was one of the people who like, inadvertently convinced me to keep writing for VLD (which, I've enjoyed), I figured I should give her something for her birthday. But like, I wasn't aware it was her birthday until the day and my brain wasn't cooperating that well with ideas. However, I did remember that time Lance asked Nyma if she wanted to see him climb a tree, so uh, here's Lance climbing a tree.

“And then there were two,” Pidge announces as Hunk returns with a small plate of Nuvirkor o’devours.

“Huh? Where’d Lance go?”

“Showing off for some girl,” Pidge rolls her eyes and cocks her head toward this tree with a short crowd of Nuvirkos gathered under it.

Lance is several branches up, making a show of his nimble swing up to the next. He never changed back into his suit after hitting the pool. He’s still clad in only his swim trunks and changing isn’t something he forgot to do. Lance has a pretty nice build and he knows it, too. Slim but very solid, and most people don’t realize how much muscle he’s got until the clothes come off.

Though if Nuvirkos find muscles attractive, Hunk has no clue. He’d be inclined to think not, since musculature isn’t particularly obvious on their people. They look like a cross between teddy bears and koalas as translated to a primarily humanoid shape. Big, fluffy ears, Bambi eyes, heart-shaped noses in adorably round faces, and short fur that ranges from earthen tones to rainbow brightness.

Hunk has to squash his urge to hug them because they’re just so dang cute looking. He doesn’t want to feel that way because it’s borderline patronizing, probably. Finding them cute definitely doesn’t erase his respect for them as a people, but still, it’s a struggle not to hug them when they look like living stuffed animals.

Nuvirkor has been apart of the Voltron coalition for awhile now, and as such, Voltron was invited to the this festival thing celebrating the blooming of these rare flowers. Allura was initially going to politely decline, but with Shiro currently healing in a pod and Keith pacing outside it like a fretful watchdog, missions were postponed anyway.

Hunk tries to pick out specific girl Lance is trying to impress and he thinks she must be the one wearing the aqua gown and feathered cape. He saw Lance talking to her earlier, although he didn’t catch her name.

Lance stands up on a wide branch and flashes his audience a sunny grin, flexing his biceps like a peacock showcasing its vibrant feathers. Pidge scoffs and Hunk suddenly feels like running headfirst into the tree trunk.

“Look at me, I’m Lance and I’m sooo hot,” she drawls mockingly. "you can't even bake cookies on me, Hunk, they'll burn." 

Hunk snickers, almost dropping the plate in his hand.

“You know, I keep telling him he’d have better luck if he just acted like himself. Does he listen to me?” Hunk shakes his head. “Nope, he does that.”  
  
Hunk points to Lance’s display with the little leafy roll-up he takes off the plate, giving it a brief sniff before he pops it in his mouth. Huh. Ooh, that’s weird.

It’s like lettuce but spicy and minty at the same time. An interesting flavor but oddly enough, a pretty good one.

“Pidge, you know who made these?” he asks, popping another one in his mouth.

“Why would I know who made these?” she raises a brow, then takes one for herself.

“I saw you mingling, I thought it might’ve come up.” Hunk chews in contentment, realizing he likes it even more the second tasting. “Mmm. I gotta meet whoever made these, I want the recipe.”

“They’re pretty good.” Pidge bobs her head, then takes a little tart from the plate. “You gotta find whoever made these too. I love the filling.”

Hunk nibbles at a tart. The crust is a little too salty in his opinion, but of course, Pidge’s palate isn’t as refined as his. The filling tastes peanut-butter-y, but smoother and sweeter. Overall, not a bad treat. He’d just cut the salt and prepare the batter to be flaky, as opposite to crumbly.

Before he can sample the next thing on the plate, a loud _snap_ splits the air. The Nuvirkos gathered around the tree let out a chorus of alarmed shouts and gasps. Hunk looks up and the plate falls from his hands, o’devours scattering over the grass as he starts running.

His body knows what to do even before the horror of what’s happening actually processes through his mind. A branch broke on Lance and now he’s falling, headfirst, plummeting to what’s sure to be his death without any armor.

Branches slash him on his way down, smaller ones breaking way. Lance hits the bigger ones with sick, meaty _thwacks_ , his body bouncing off in spastic, altered courses. But no matter which route they throw him, the destination is down.

Hunk feels his heart stops dead in his chest as a gruesome _crunch_ echoes from the next branch Lance strikes, this sound that arrests him with roaring terror because it happens so fast, it could come anywhere from the branch itself to Lance’s delicate neck.

It’s the last branch Lance hits before Hunk catches him. Catching him is instinct, automatic, prompted by panic rather than planning. His jetpack gives him some height and grabbing Lance midair is like wrestling an alarmingly wet potato sack.

Hunk juggles him into a more stable position, relief taking him down like a tidal wave as Lance blinks at him.

He’s alive. Hurt, staring up at Hunk through bloody lashes in a shellshocked stupor, but alive.

Hunk descends and sets him down as gently as possible. He registers Pidge’s presence, the nervous murmurings of the Nuvirkos. Lance tries to sit up and lets out this godawful scream that scares the shit out of Hunk, an anguished, keening wail.

Pidge ushers him back down by the shoulders, making nervous shushing sounds.

“Can someone find Allu— Princess Allura?” Hunk calls to the crowd, his own voice all watery, shaky syllables.

“Whoever finds the Blue Paladin’s teeth gets a prize,” Pidge calls out.

Hunk thinks it might be a morbid joke, but it comes out grim. It looks like he’s missing three of them, two from the bottom and one from the top, but it’s difficult to be sure because of all the blood in his mouth. It rolls over his rapidly swelling bottom lip, foamy as it mingles with spit.

Oh quiznak. There’s so much blood. Lance’s bare skin is slashed all over where the branches clipped him, littered with oozing lacerations. A particularly concerning gash in his forehead sends blood flooding into his eyes and he’s blinking over and over in unsuccessful attempts to clear them.

Hunk’s stomach is already doing backflips and he can taste the leafy roll-ups rising even before he sees Lance’s leg. Well, he sees it, but it’s so disturbing, it takes him a minute to work out that it’s Lance’s leg he’s looking at.

It starts at his knee. His knee twisted off at a grotesque, unnatural angle, and beneath it a spear of broken fibula pierces through the skin. From there on, there’s a gorge of marbled pink meat, blood bathing the beige of his surrounding flesh as it gushes freely.

Hunk gags, hand flying over his mouth as saliva floods his tongue.

“Hey!” Pidge snaps at him, sharp. “No throwing up! Lance needs you!”

Hunk squeezes his eyes shut, nods his agreement as he gulps.

“Hey, you, lemme borrow that cape,” she says to a nearby Nuvirko.

They hurriedly take it off and pass it to her.

“Don’t let him fight me, Hunk,” she instructs, voice quavery but eyes focused as she scoots toward the mangled limb.

“Right,” Hunk says, swallowing. He turns to Lance. “Um, hey, buddy, can you look at me?”

Lance does look at him, eyes wild, still blinking out beads of blood. He tries to speak, lips quivering. It turns into a screech as Pidge begins binding his leg. He snaps forward with a sudden surge of strength and Hunk grabs him around the middle. He hugs Lance and cages him at the same time.

Lance writhes against him, whimpering painfully.

“I know, I know,” Hunk murmurs. “Hang in there, man, you’re doing good.”

Hunk doesn’t dare watch what Pidge is doing and he doesn’t let Lance see either, keeping his face turned away with his hand tenderly cupped to the back of his neck.

He hears something wet, rustling fabric, and then there’s a brief scraping noise. That noise is followed by a curse from Pidge and Lance’s eyes rolling up in his head as he crumples forward. He buries his face in Hunk’s chest, blood from his forehead gash streaking across Hunk’s cuirass.

“…hurts…”

“Yeah, I know.” Hunk’s heart breaks for him. “Uh, Pidge?”

“He’s still bleeding, but it’s slower,” she reports.

Hunk nods and slowly lies Lance back down.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he murmurs a manta of apologies as Lance whines in pain.

“I found a tooth!” calls a Nuvirko guy, jogging over with the tiny object pinched between furry fingers.

“Put it in some milk, please,” Pidge calls over her shoulder.

Hunk takes his headband off and ties it around another spilling wound in Lance’s palm, careful of his broken fingers. Three of them are wrenched out of place, crooked like bendy straws and painted with purple bruising.

He chokes out another noise of pain and Pidge squeezes his opposite hand, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles.

“You’re gonna be okay,” she promises. “Allura’s almost here. We’re going to get you back to the castle safe and sound, and you get to chill in the pod. Get it, chill?”

And for a second, a ghost of a smile twitches over Lance’s lips.

When he’s had a moment to recover, Pidge lets go of his hand and starts picking the broke bits of tree branch splintering out of his skin. Lance flinches and Hunk stills him with one hand on his shoulder, the other stroking through his hair. Pidge is better at this part than he is, her fingers are smaller and her nails are slightly longer.

The crowd parts as Allura comes charging through, the skirt of her new formal dress bunched up in her hands.

“Lance!” she gasps, coming to a frazzled halt. “What happened?”

“…fell,” he croaks through clenched teeth.

“We’ve got to get him to a pod,” Pidge says needlessly.

“We certainly do,” Allura agrees. “Hunk, can you carry him? Should I call for a transport?”

“I’ll carry him,” Hunk decides. It isn’t going to be fun with Lance in pain, but most of the paths are closed for the festival and it’d probably take longer to get him to the castle. “Is it okay to pick him up?”

“Probably as okay as he’s going to get until we put him in a pod,” Pidge says, grimacing.

Hunk inhales and turns to Lance. “Okay. So I’m gonna pick you up now. I’m sure it’s gonna suck, so you can curse at me and even be really nasty about it if you want. I won’t be mad.”

“No,” Lance begs in a choked, pitiful plea. “No, Hunk, don’t…”

“I have to,” he says, and gets his arms under Lance and hefts him up before he has time to freeze up.

Lance screams like something possessed, throwing his head back and helplessly reaching for his leg with broken fingers. He does start cursing at Hunk, a storm of sharp curses spat between sobs. Some in Spanish, some in Altean, even. He’s just sputtering out everything he’s got, squirming weakly in Hunk’s grasp.

Of course, Hunk isn’t the least offended. The walk back to the castle, Allura in front and Pidge behind (carrying Lance’s tooth, preserved in a glass of milk), is the longest one he’s ever been on. Every step he takes is hard on Lance, features contorting in various shades of agony as his mangled leg bounces with the movement.

Hunk wishes Lance would just pass out. He’s never heard him in so much pain before, excruciation he can almost taste in every strained breath wheezing out of Lance’s abused throat.

By the time they actually reach the castle, Hunk’s gloves are soaked with blood. Lance is still conscious, but he’s no longer cursing, he’s moaning wordlessly, slack as dough. Hunk finally sets him down on a bed in the infirmary. While Coran preps him for the pod, Hunk holds his hand and Pidge strokes his hair and cheeks.

It’s a blessing when he’s finally settled and knocked out for the healing cycle, and only then does Hunk finally dart to the closest disposal bin and expel the roiling contents of his stomach.

* * *

Shiro is out of his pod first, and Hunk figures Lance would be happy about that, but he doesn’t even seem to notice. The second his legs are stable enough, Lance quietly slinks off to his room. It reminds Hunk of the way his old cat used to hide whenever guests came over. It’s totally out of the norm for Lance and it sets off the alarm bells in Hunk’s head.

But he doesn’t go after Lance right away. First he arms himself with a milkshake, flavored with these orange berries Lance likes and topped with sprinkles for good measure. Milkshake on the tray, he heads to Lance’s room and knocks on the door.

“Not now,” comes the reply.

“Yeah, now,” Hunk insists with a touch of lightness. “Don’t want your treat to melt, do you?”

There’s a pause. Then the door opens and Lance rises on the balls of his feet, taking the milkshake off the tray. He sips the straw as he backpedals, taking a seat on the edge of his bed. Hunk steps over the threshold before the door closes and plops down next to him.

“So, what’s wrong?”

Lance fidgets, shrugging and keeping his gaze focused on the milkshake.

“Are you hurting?” Hunk asks, frowning. “Did the pod not fix everything?”

Lance removes his lips from the straw and shakes his head. “That’s not it…”

“Okay, so what is it? You kinda weirded everybody out back there.”

“I’m embarrassed,” Lance confesses softly, taking another sip of the straw.

“For going in the pod?” Hunk tilts his head.

“No, man, for how I ended up in the pod.” Lance groans and sinks forward, fingers tapping against the metal of the cup. “I fell out of a tree in my trunks, in front of all those people. I’m a paladin, they’re supposed to think I’m this super cool, badass defender. Now they’re just gonna remember me as that loser who fell out of a tree and cried like a baby.”

Hunk winces sympathetically. “Okay, yeah, so it wasn’t exactly your finest moment. But I think you’re being too hard on yourself.”

Lance snorts a sound of disbelief and slurps up some more milkshake.

“Really.” Hunk looks at him plainly. “None of those people were laughing at you, they were just freaked out. I’m sure none of them think less of you and anybody who would is a jerk anyway.”

“I’m still embarrassed,” Lance mutters. “I was being kind of stupid. I should’ve known that branch was flimsy.”

“That’s the part that you think was stupid?” Hunk raises a brow. “Not the part where your plan to impress a girl was climbing a big tree? Not the part where you didn’t put your armor on before climbing up a big tree?”

“Not helping.” Lance gives him a tired look.

“I don’t want to make you feel worse, but I mean, yeah, it was kind of dumb. But dude, we all do dumb, embarrassing things sometimes. Like, you remember the time I took a pizza out of the oven with my bare hands?”

“Could I ever forget?” Lance shakes his head, little smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “I still can’t believe you did that.”

“Or how about the time I fell asleep in class and called the teacher ‘mom’ when she woke me up?” Hunk lifts a brow.

“She was so mad about it too, her face got all pinched up.” Lance grins. “Comedy gold.”

“To you. Not me, man, I was teased for a week.” Hunk clucks his tongue. “And this kind of stuff happens to everybody, that’s life. Name the coolest person you can think of off the top of your head.”

“Uh, Shiro.”

“Oh, that’s easy.” Hunk snaps his fingers. “Shiro’s cooking is an embarrassment all by itself. I’ve tried to teach him, but even when I give him pre-made recipes or instructions in bold print, he finds a way to mess it up.”

“Ugh, I remember his noodles. They were like rubber bands.” Lance wrinkles his nose.

“Look at Allura. She’s a freaking princess and even she does embarrassing stuff sometimes. Just a few weeks ago, she pronounced that one ambassador’s name wrong in front of over a thousand people. And those were just the ones present. That event was broadcasted across the galaxy.”

“And she had to keep standing at the podium,” Lance adds. “I felt so bad for her.”

“Exactly,” Hunk says. “And I’m sure everybody who saw you fall felt bad for you too. Not just because you were hurt, but because they’ve all done embarrassing stuff at some point or another.”

“You’re right,” Lance agrees, tentatively brightening.

“I know.” Hunk smiles and hugs him, just because he can.

Lance gives him a brief hug back, squeezing affectionately before he starts squirming.

“Okay, Hunk. I do need to breathe.”

Hunk releases him.

“So, you’ve got a whole group of people on this castle pretty worried about you. You wanna go out there and show them you’re okay?”

Lance nods and finishes off his milkshake. Hunk loops an arm around his shoulders and leads him down the hall.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Crap, got some typos I gotta fix.


End file.
